Deal
by Organ Man
Summary: A new look at Michael's acquisition of the last shadow Pokemon.


Trudly was getting a bit impatient, but he was also a bit excited. Finally, he was getting in some shady, secret deal! After too much cheap luck and two-bit thieving burglary, things were finally getting interesting! Finally...

"I! I! I! WANT YOU! WANT YOU! WANT YOU! YEAH!" Miror B cheerfully sang out loud, doing his signature 2 step moves with fervour.

Trudly let out a low groan.

Folly couldn't help but chuckle at how anticlimactic this 'Shady Deal' was. For one thing, it wasn't in some dark alley at night - it was on top of Gateon Lighthouse in broad daylight. Which, he supposed, was safer than the alleys around here.

Secondly, the dealers were anything but shady underworld characters. Their boss, Miror B, with his loud antics, disco fever moves and immense afro seemed to drive that point home. Hard. And then there was the person who arranged the deal...

DONK

The elevator clunked as it's passenger arrived at the top. The old, rusted doors slunk open to reveal the dealer - a short, 10-year old boy with spiky red hair and a heavy parcel who clearly looked like he'd rather be somewhere else.

Michael. Cipher's arch-nemesis, the youngest champion of Mt. Battle to date. And the reason 'Team Miror B" had lost every single Pokemon it had gained.

None of them wanted to deal with the juvenile thief who had humiliated their boss over and over again. But their finances had been in a crunch lately, and with no real way of making any honest money, they were in no position to refuse this deal.

The kid had come up with a burly Ursaring at his side. He has the sense to bring some muscle, at least, Folly thought. He also noticed the boy was without his arm gizmo that had stolen his boss' Voltorb so long ago.

'Ahhh, Kiddo!" Miror B promptly made his way to the kid...and the parcel. "You know, I never would've figured out we'd be here, Here and now! See, you've always had the scent, you see, that you'd be our enemy! It never crossed my mind (No, not once) that'd YOU would make an offer like this! And -"

A growl from the Ursaring cut Miror off.

"Let's see it." Michael growled. Heroes always were people of few words.

"Aheh...right." Smiling, Miror B reached into his pocket and pulled out a Pokeball. "Here it is. The very last of it's kind." He opened up the ball and after a brief flash, there stood a Dragonite.

The Dragonite that Miror B and Trudly had gone into a lot of trouble to get from the Cipher Factory.

The headset on Michael's headband came alive at Dragonite's appearance. This was a Shadow Pokemon Cipher had created - the last one they manufactured before their plan had gone kaput. And the boy clearly wanted it.

"Soooooo..." Miror B began, "I got the Dragon...you got the dough?"

Michael nodded, shaking the briefcase he held. "$50,000. From my Collosseum wins. All here. But hand it over first." The Ursaring threateningly stepped up.

Somehow, Miror B seemed unworried by the big bear. After returning the shadow Pokemon, he calmly flicked the Pokeball over to the boy.

"Now, that moolah..."

"Wait." Michael checked the ball he had just been given, to make sure it had what he was paying for, and not some Ludicolo the dancer had slipped. Satisfied, he flung the heavy briefcase to Miror B.

Miror B opened it and smiled broadly. $50,000, no counterfeits, no tracers, not a cent missing. That was the nice thing about dealing with honest types - hold up your part of the deal, they'll hold up theirs.

"Thankee, thankee, thankee. May we do business again." Miror B chuckled.

"Lets not." Michael and his muscle turned to the elevator.

Trudly couldn't contain his curiosity. "So what happened to your armband, kid?"

The boy turned around with a groan. "Johnson confiscated it."

"Ah...That explains a lot."

Michael, with the last known Shadow Pokemon, promptly excused himself and went down the elevator.

Trudly chuckled. That had gone well. His first shady deal, an underground work with...ok, less-than-shady characters...but still! Now they were $50,000 richer and could buy some super secret shady...

"WHO's UP FOR A FEAST AT THE KRABBY CLUB?"

Trudly sighed.

Folly chuckled. Anticlimactic.


End file.
